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The world was once again a different place from what he had known.  Even the small room he had been shown and told was his made him feel out of place.  It was a natural reaction to be sure, especially one of his time period.  At least he wasn't the only one from the past to have been relocated here.  Over half of the members of this band known as the Espionage Entourage came from worlds less "advanced" than this one:  pirates, most of them were, but at least they were more on level with him than the leader, the only "modern" one in the group.

Looking out from the window of his room, he beheld the seemingly endless night and cloudy skies.  Rain fell like a limitless supply of teardrops onto the gigantic buildings comprising the city.  Having nothing ever going on in this city, even one more majestic than Rome, must have bored the gods of this world to tears.  Their boredom matched his, but even he wasn't so bored as to give in to such childish emotions.

If he wasn't provided some entertainment, he would find some on his own.

Kespix turned to the door leading out of his room and made his way to the ground floor.  Never since the steps of the Parthenon had he had to walk vertically for so long.  Silently he strode across the carpeting of the building's antechamber.  If he had his boots off, he would have felt like the Emperor to have felt the rug beneath his feet.  He shook that thought from his head almost immediately; he was a gladiator and damn proud to be one.  Not even being the Emperor could extinguish the thrill of a fight.  And that thrill was exactly what he was going to find.

The glass doors parted before him as he approached; another marvel of this world.  Around him on either side of the stairs leading to the ground glowed streams of variously-colored bright lights.  Neon, he remembered them being called.  He wouldn't find any decent place around to fight with them distracting him, sticking out like the Emperor from the Coliseum crowd.  He continued his trek down one of the streets between the towering buildings.  The rain made a delicate plinking sound as the many drops struck his chainmail garment.

As he walked, he heard a clattering from between two of the buildings out of the neon lights.  Looking to its source, he saw the rear end of a cat with the rest of it dipped into a trash can.  Obviously it was scrounging around for something.  He could almost sympathize with it, himself being the only one of his kind on the streets as well.

Of course, he wasn't known for his sympathy for animals.  From his tasset belt he took a sling.  "Let us see if I still have it from pranking those Roman Legionaries."  A few flips of the wrist brought the sling around; and a release of one of the strings saw a projectile, a lead "bullet", strike the cat and knock it into the can.  "Hit!"

"Ow, you could say that again."  The sarcastic remark echoed from the garbage can!

Kespix immediately retreated a step, his scissor forming around his arm.  Did all the cats around here speak, or was it some kind of monster?

He got his answer when a head poked out from the metal bin and a complete set of fingers wrapped around the rim.  The face was most definitely human, despite the light bruise on her forehead.  Brown hair streaked gold formed almost a football shape out of her head (not that Kespix knew what a football was).

The girl hoisted herself out of the garbage and landed softly on her boots in front of Kespix.  She was rather agile to say the least.  She was also slightly angry.  "Why did you hit me?"

Despite the confusing situation Kespix had a concise answer to this question.  "I did not hit you.  I hit the cat that must still be in the garbage can."  He pointed behind her with the blade of his scissor.

The girl didn't even bother turning around before she gave her answer.  "That cat was me."

Now Kespix was utterly thrown for a loop; his mind raced for an explanation.  A myth from back home popped into mind.  Cat-like body, human face…  "Would you happen to be a Sphinx?" he asked.

"No," she replied.  "I'm a Nobody, just like you."  She indicated her black clothes with a flourish.  "My name is Kixytt.  What's yours?"

"I am Kespix Merxahm, former gladiator of Rome," he proudly announced with a fist on his chest.  The seriousness never left his face.  He looked to her again and asked, "Are you sure it was you I hit?"

"Well, if you want to make sure, you could always check the bruise on my butt…"

"Please," Kespix muttered, holding up his empty hand.  "There's no need for that."

A coy smile played across Kixytt's lips.  "Aw, what's the matter?"

"I am not looking for that right now, you feline minx."

The insult in his tone was lost on her.  "Maybe I could help you find it."

Kespix turned away, towards the direction his trail would continue, and spat, "I hardly think a scrawny runt like you could help me find what I desire."

"Come on, I can help.  I can prove it."  She bent over, her back going parallel to the ground as her hands laid flat on the cement surface.  She closed her eyes and stiffened the rest of her body.  Her gold-streaked hair ran over her jacket and all down her body; her jacket tightened to hug her body as close as it could; the feline features of her face became more prominent, her very appearance becoming more animal-like from her whiskers to her paws to her tail.  When she finally opened her eyes, it was clear they were cat's eyes.

Once she looked around, it was also clear that there were no eyes on her.  She strolled out of the alley, a whine showing her displeasure at having lost her audience.  Still, he wouldn't be lost for long.  Her feline senses were already tuned to the darkness of night around her from her previous "expeditions" though the city.

Of course, adapting to that darkness might not prove a fault either.  Her back stiffened again, and the hair all over her darkened from brown to black.  Her transformation from mountain lion to panther was that simple.

Outfitted to the night's color she resumed her hunt.  It was easy to sneak around in the shadows with her "costume change" in effect; her prey couldn't know that he was being tailed, and any assistance to her imperfect (under-practiced) stealth was a big help.  Whatever the reason for her methods, it worked out in the long run (or the short run in this case).  She caught him in a rather dark section of the city, even though it was along the main street.

His steps were unhurried but deliberate; his mood had hardly lifted from when he had met her.  Side to side his gaze lazily swept, almost like Kixytt's tail swaying as she watched him from a short building's height.  Her metronome was tuned to the seemingly melodious rhythm of the sound the rain played on his chainmail armor.  Creeping over the building's roof to where the road continued into more neon-lit streets, she transformed into a human again (still maintaining the feline crouch) and leapt to the pavement right in front of him.

He seemed more used to people appearing from nowhere and hardly showed a crack in his stone-stern face.  His statuesque sneer did break when he asked, "Do I have to force you out of my way?"  He tapped his scissor to indicate what he meant by "make".

"I'm not in your way," she replied, defensively holding her hands up.  "I just wanted to help you find what you're looking for."

Kespix snorted as he retorted, "As was evidenced by our meeting at the garbage can."

To this Kixytt flushed with embarrassment and scratched the back of her head.  "Okay, that was a faux pas on my part."

"And that is precisely why I cannot see you to be a worthy opponent."

"Oh, you're looking for an opponent to battle you?  You should have said so."  She held out her hand palm-up, and the handle for her weapon appeared in it out of the shadows.  The rest of it trailed to the ground.  Her feline fingers wrapped around the handle before bringing the weapon up with a loud 'crack'.  "I could have shown you why I'm called the Playful Tamer."

Kespix took a battle stance.  He was good at noticing when a fight was starting, even when he didn't want one to (quite a rare occasion, actually).  "I told you I am not looking to share beds with the likes of you!"

With a confused cock of her head she asked, "You said that?  I never heard it."

Kespix's weaponless hand went to his forehead.  "Oy, if I have to babysit this one any longer…"

The end of Kixytt's whip wrapped around his arm.  "I'm sixteen, thank you very much; I hardly need a babysitter anymore.  You should feel happy that someone would be up to a fight at this time of night."

"Yes, but I would have preferred one that wasn't quite so annoyingly persistent."

Kixytt smiled and said, "You can find that I can be quite stubborn."

"Same here," Kespix retorted.  "Let us see what you are really made of."  He flipped his hand around to grasp the whip and gave it a haul.  The other one was primed for a horizontal slash with the scissor.  Kixytt was no match for the battle-hardened brute strength found in even one of his arms.

Before she got in range of the blade, Kixytt released the whip and back-flipped out of harm's way.  Kespix didn't bother to catch the whip, letting it uncoil from his arm as it flew behind him.  "Clever girl."

"Clever as a cat," Kixytt added, one of her hands transforming into a paw and rising to her face to lick.

It was at this point that Kespix put two and two together.  "So, those cat transformations are your element?"

Kixytt smiled a cheeky grin and answered, "Yep.  What would yours be?"

To this Kespix grinned as well and said, "Come over here, and I will show you."  He barely waited for a response.  With hand outstretched he rushed for Kixytt.

Kixytt ducked the hand, transforming into another member of her cat family repertoire as she escaped into the center of the dark street.  Kespix followed her trail with his eyes, stopping where she had once stood.  What he looked on now was a yellow-colored cat with black spots all along her back.  Kespix had heard rumors of such a creature being seen as a gladiator's opponent in the Coliseum, although he had not been so fortunate as to fight one:  a cheetah.  They were notoriously fast and hard to pin down for capture; they must have been even harder to kill.  "This fight just became a whole lot more interesting," he mused to himself.

For the fight ahead, Kespix decided to fully prepare himself.  His empty hand was thrust out next to him, a metal object forming at his fingers:  his helm.  He immediately donned it and faced Kixytt's new form with renewed resolve.

Through the eyeholes Kespix could almost swear that the cheetah was smiling at him.  Just because she had the advantage of speed did not mean that she had the right to be cocky.  Even so, he couldn't let his guard down for even a second.

The Battler and the Tamer stood off from each other at about seven paces, slowly circling each other, gauging the other's strength.  Well, just Kespix was that serious.  Both of them had their own unique tricks up their sleeves, but this first round was matched in Kespix's favor.  At least, that's what he hoped; his strength in close range was what he was betting on.

Kixytt still wore her smile as she circled around Kespix, humoring him in what must have been one of his gladiator games.  After nearly a full circle, however, she got a little bored.  With her cheetah speed she rushed straight for Kespix.

The attack came too suddenly for Kespix to think up a plan for attack; he had been shaken too abruptly from his battle calculations.  All he could do was hold up his scissor to intercept the sets of claws.  Even the defense proved an offensive maneuver.  The bone was no match for the metal, and two of the claw points crumbled.  The pain threw off her focus:  an opening for Kespix.  He grabbed her neck and spun around her, shoving her to continue her momentum.  "Not as ferocious as the real things, are you?" he smirked as Kixytt skidded on the ground.

The Playful Tamer transformed to her human self as she stood up, her back to the Battler and her hand on her chest.  "I try not to be…" Kixytt said as she caught her breath, turning towards her aggressor.  Her hand came away from her chest, and her coil of whip fell until it just barely touched the ground.  This tip was brought up and snagged Kespix's boot.  With teeth exposed in a grin she added, "… but I can when I want to be.  You broke my nail."  A tug of the line upended the veteran.

"How could I have fallen for that?" Kespix groaned.  He should have been aware of where he threw both Kixytt and her whip.  Many times had he seen gladiators in the ring make underdog comebacks in the same way.  And hadn't he seen this trap (the ankle snare) already?  The Spartan/Ninja exhibition flashed through his mind; his next move was influenced by these memories.  Like before, he took hold of Kixytt's whip and attempted to reel her in again while still on the ground.

Again Kixytt knew she was no match against Kespix's strength, but there was one difference between her situation and the Ninja's.  She held up her non-dominant hand and snapped her fingers.  Immediately, the whip vanished in a dark shroud.  With the tension no longer opposing her pull, Kixytt staggered back a few steps to regain her balance.

Kespix had only used his arm in his pull instead of putting his back into it, resulting in less recoil.  By the time Kixytt had regained her footing, so had he.

Both fighters now had a decent understanding of how the other worked.  The next round would prove explosive, despite the rain not having let up.  The music played on Kespix's chainmail seemed too spritely for the standoff in the alley, though.

He decided to remedy that with the sound of his opponent's screams.  His legs tensed and pushed him forward into a charge.  His scissor was held beside him in a position to deliver a devastating punch.

Just because she was less experienced in fighting than Kespix didn't mean that she was going to just stand there and take a punch like the one swiftly approaching.  Her legs tightened as well, but hers when released sent her high into the air over Kespix's head.

The Bitter Battler slowed to a stop with his target no longer in front of him.  He looked up, but the limited vision his helm provided as well as the night sky hid her from view.

That was, of course, until she transformed again.  The coloring on this feline was lighter, but she was also of a larger build than any of her others.  Kespix immediately recognized the species:  a lioness.  A cheetah might have been a more prestigious opponent, but the lioness and its male counterpart were stronger combatants.  They were the real competition for gladiators (besides other gladiators) in the Coliseum.

This fight was really staring to become a stroll down Memory Lane, a hike that he would need his "walking stick" and "satchel" for.  Holding up his armored arm he dispelled his scissor in much the same way Kixytt had to her weapon.  Kespix smirked under his helm at the confusion that came upon Kixytt's lion face.  Once bare, he snapped his fingers of this hand.  From a portal of darkness that appeared at his side arose a skeletal figure, instantly recognized as one of Kespix's Gladiator Nobodies.  The trident and net he carried further identified him as Neptune.

Kixytt's confusion became an angry leer; Kespix's face remained unchanged.  "Do not worry," he told her.  "I assure you, this is still a one-on-one fight."  To prove this, he turned to Neptune and took up the weapons he presented.  Once disarmed, Neptune disappeared again.

Holding these weapons again (despite them no longer being officially his) provided further memories of the past:  victories won by the triple points of his trident, the exasperation experienced by his opponents as they struggled to tear his net off their heads, the cheers of the crowd as blood flowed like a fountain… all of these memories and more…

…nearly distracted him from the present fight.  In his reminiscent stupor Kixytt had made a dash at Kespix with claws thrust to tear at Kespix's exposed chest.  Only when the lioness roared did the Brawler react.  He brought up his chainmail net and intercepted both clawed paws.  With the dexterity of a matador (a Spanish gladiator, after all) he sidestepped the strike as Kixytt's speed reduced.

Unfortunately, this kitty proved cleverer than her instinct-driven counterparts.  While she flew next to Kespix in her failed lunge, her hind leg was thrust out to the side and into his chest!  Her claws drew a red row across him, causing him to release the net with a slight cry of pain; he hadn't expected an attack like that.

Still, he had endured worse.  The other scars on his chest and around his neck were proof of that.  He turned to where Kixytt landed, the smoothness of which had been impeded by the net still on her front feet.  Even now she was struggling to take it off.  Either that or she enjoyed the jingle it made as she shook it.  She was facing away from him, so he couldn't tell.  Since taking advantage of distraction wasn't beneath her, Kespix decided to make use of her own.  He took his trident in both hands and thrust it under her abdomen.  He made sure not to hit her legs.  The reason for this slight bit of compassion was because of what he did next.  With a combination of speed and power he raised the trident's head and forcibly brought Kixytt's lower half into the air.  A spatula couldn't have done any better of a job flipping her onto her back.

Kespix reached down at her prone (and somewhat winded) form and grabbed the net.  To his surprise it came off rather easily; she had been enjoying herself.  Now that wasn't the case, with her look of fear and all.  With his other hand still grasping the trident, he thrust it into the ground at a shallow angle to the surface.  The trident's shaft was a hair's width away from her neck, and two points from the head pierced the ground on either side of her wrist.  "Consider yourself pinned," said the Battler.  "This fight is mine."

Kixytt transformed back into her human self and slid her narrower wrist out of the trident's grasp.  With both hands free she unplanted the weapon and handed it to Kespix.  "I honestly thought that you were going to kill me for a second," she said with a chuckle.

Upon taking the weapon and taking off his helm Kespix replied, "I do not kill women that I do not have a grudge against.  I bear you no ill will, child."

"Well, that's good to hear," laughed the Tamer.

"I must be going back now," Kespix said.  "I have found what I was looking for, even if it was in a questionable place."

"Aw, you're leaving so soon?" Kixytt whined.  "Will I be able to find you again?"

Kespix turned back once before replying, "I will always be around these streets, looking for a fight.  Of that you can be certain. For now, I bid you goodnight."  He dispelled his weaponry, turned back down the street, and made his way back towards Memory's Skyscraper.

Even in this day and age, it seemed that he could relive the glory days of being a gladiator.  His heated blood from that fight had thawed his cold, brooding feelings.  Now if only there was a way for this reminisce to last, a way to find more worthy opponents…  But that would be pushing his luck.

Soon he found himself at the top of the Skyscraper's stairs and walking through the doors.  Machelix had arrived back since his departure, evidenced by the Mage himself sitting at the glowing box known as a "computer".  Once the door closed behind Kespix, Machelix turned to him and asked, "Where were you?"  His tone indicated curiosity, not anger.

"I was just out for a walk."  It was a simple truth.

Machelix raised an eyebrow and pointed to the fresh marks on Kespix's chest.  "You got those from a walk?"

The Battler looked down to them and to his report added, "I got into a fight."

With a smirk Machelix continued his questioning.  "With who?"

"A cat-girl by the name of Kixytt."

"Kixytt?  That sounds almost familiar…"  Machelix stroked his chin before shaking his thoughts from his head.  "I'll look into that later.  For now I have one last question for you.  Have you ever heard of the Rogues of Axiom?"

Description
The world was once again a different place from what he had known.  Even the small room he had been shown and told was his made him feel out of place.  It was a natural reaction to be sure, especially one of his time period.  At least he wasn't the only one from the past to have been relocated here.  Over half of the members of this band known as the Espionage Entourage came from worlds less "advanced" than this one:  pirates, most of them were, but at least they were more on level with him than the leader, the only "modern" one in the group.

Looking out from the window of his room, he beheld the seemingly endless night and cloudy skies.  Rain fell like a limitless supply of teardrops onto the gigantic buildings comprising the city.  Having nothing ever going on in this city, even one more majestic than Rome, must have bored the gods of this world to tears.  Their boredom matched his, but even he wasn't so bored as to give in to such childish emotions.

If he wasn't provided some entertainment, he would find some on his own.

Kespix turned to the door leading out of his room and made his way to the ground floor.  Never since the steps of the Parthenon had he had to walk vertically for so long.  Silently he strode across the carpeting of the building's antechamber.  If he had his boots off, he would have felt like the Emperor to have felt the rug beneath his feet.  He shook that thought from his head almost immediately; he was a gladiator and damn proud to be one.  Not even being the Emperor could extinguish the thrill of a fight.  And that thrill was exactly what he was going to find.

The glass doors parted before him as he approached; another marvel of this world.  Around him on either side of the stairs leading to the ground glowed streams of variously-colored bright lights.  Neon, he remembered them being called.  He wouldn't find any decent place around to fight with them distracting him, sticking out like the Emperor from the Coliseum crowd.  He continued his trek down one of the streets between the towering buildings.  The rain made a delicate plinking sound as the many drops struck his chainmail garment.

As he walked, he heard a clattering from between two of the buildings out of the neon lights.  Looking to its source, he saw the rear end of a cat with the rest of it dipped into a trash can.  Obviously it was scrounging around for something.  He could almost sympathize with it, himself being the only one of his kind on the streets as well.

Of course, he wasn't known for his sympathy for animals.  From his tasset belt he took a sling.  "Let us see if I still have it from pranking those Roman Legionaries."  A few flips of the wrist brought the sling around; and a release of one of the strings saw a projectile, a lead "bullet", strike the cat and knock it into the can.  "Hit!"

"Ow, you could say that again."  The sarcastic remark echoed from the garbage can!

Kespix immediately retreated a step, his scissor forming around his arm.  Did all the cats around here speak, or was it some kind of monster?

He got his answer when a head poked out from the metal bin and a complete set of fingers wrapped around the rim.  The face was most definitely human, despite the light bruise on her forehead.  Brown hair streaked gold formed almost a football shape out of her head (not that Kespix knew what a football was).

The girl hoisted herself out of the garbage and landed softly on her boots in front of Kespix.  She was rather agile to say the least.  She was also slightly angry.  "Why did you hit me?"

Despite the confusing situation Kespix had a concise answer to this question.  "I did not hit you.  I hit the cat that must still be in the garbage can."  He pointed behind her with the blade of his scissor.

The girl didn't even bother turning around before she gave her answer.  "That cat was me."

Now Kespix was utterly thrown for a loop; his mind raced for an explanation.  A myth from back home popped into mind.  Cat-like body, human face…  "Would you happen to be a Sphinx?" he asked.

"No," she replied.  "I'm a Nobody, just like you."  She indicated her black clothes with a flourish.  "My name is Kixytt.  What's yours?"

"I am Kespix Merxahm, former gladiator of Rome," he proudly announced with a fist on his chest.  The seriousness never left his face.  He looked to her again and asked, "Are you sure it was you I hit?"

"Well, if you want to make sure, you could always check the bruise on my butt…"

"Please," Kespix muttered, holding up his empty hand.  "There's no need for that."

A coy smile played across Kixytt's lips.  "Aw, what's the matter?"

"I am not looking for that right now, you feline minx."

The insult in his tone was lost on her.  "Maybe I could help you find it."

Kespix turned away, towards the direction his trail would continue, and spat, "I hardly think a scrawny runt like you could help me find what I desire."

"Come on, I can help.  I can prove it."  She bent over, her back going parallel to the ground as her hands laid flat on the cement surface.  She closed her eyes and stiffened the rest of her body.  Her gold-streaked hair ran over her jacket and all down her body; her jacket tightened to hug her body as close as it could; the feline features of her face became more prominent, her very appearance becoming more animal-like from her whiskers to her paws to her tail.  When she finally opened her eyes, it was clear they were cat's eyes.

Once she looked around, it was also clear that there were no eyes on her.  She strolled out of the alley, a whine showing her displeasure at having lost her audience.  Still, he wouldn't be lost for long.  Her feline senses were already tuned to the darkness of night around her from her previous "expeditions" though the city.

Of course, adapting to that darkness might not prove a fault either.  Her back stiffened again, and the hair all over her darkened from brown to black.  Her transformation from mountain lion to panther was that simple.

Outfitted to the night's color she resumed her hunt.  It was easy to sneak around in the shadows with her "costume change" in effect; her prey couldn't know that he was being tailed, and any assistance to her imperfect (under-practiced) stealth was a big help.  Whatever the reason for her methods, it worked out in the long run (or the short run in this case).  She caught him in a rather dark section of the city, even though it was along the main street.

His steps were unhurried but deliberate; his mood had hardly lifted from when he had met her.  Side to side his gaze lazily swept, almost like Kixytt's tail swaying as she watched him from a short building's height.  Her metronome was tuned to the seemingly melodious rhythm of the sound the rain played on his chainmail armor.  Creeping over the building's roof to where the road continued into more neon-lit streets, she transformed into a human again (still maintaining the feline crouch) and leapt to the pavement right in front of him.

He seemed more used to people appearing from nowhere and hardly showed a crack in his stone-stern face.  His statuesque sneer did break when he asked, "Do I have to force you out of my way?"  He tapped his scissor to indicate what he meant by "make".

"I'm not in your way," she replied, defensively holding her hands up.  "I just wanted to help you find what you're looking for."

Kespix snorted as he retorted, "As was evidenced by our meeting at the garbage can."

To this Kixytt flushed with embarrassment and scratched the back of her head.  "Okay, that was a faux pas on my part."

"And that is precisely why I cannot see you to be a worthy opponent."

"Oh, you're looking for an opponent to battle you?  You should have said so."  She held out her hand palm-up, and the handle for her weapon appeared in it out of the shadows.  The rest of it trailed to the ground.  Her feline fingers wrapped around the handle before bringing the weapon up with a loud 'crack'.  "I could have shown you why I'm called the Playful Tamer."

Kespix took a battle stance.  He was good at noticing when a fight was starting, even when he didn't want one to (quite a rare occasion, actually).  "I told you I am not looking to share beds with the likes of you!"

With a confused cock of her head she asked, "You said that?  I never heard it."

Kespix's weaponless hand went to his forehead.  "Oy, if I have to babysit this one any longer…"

The end of Kixytt's whip wrapped around his arm.  "I'm sixteen, thank you very much; I hardly need a babysitter anymore.  You should feel happy that someone would be up to a fight at this time of night."

"Yes, but I would have preferred one that wasn't quite so annoyingly persistent."

Kixytt smiled and said, "You can find that I can be quite stubborn."

"Same here," Kespix retorted.  "Let us see what you are really made of."  He flipped his hand around to grasp the whip and gave it a haul.  The other one was primed for a horizontal slash with the scissor.  Kixytt was no match for the battle-hardened brute strength found in even one of his arms.

Before she got in range of the blade, Kixytt released the whip and back-flipped out of harm's way.  Kespix didn't bother to catch the whip, letting it uncoil from his arm as it flew behind him.  "Clever girl."

"Clever as a cat," Kixytt added, one of her hands transforming into a paw and rising to her face to lick.

It was at this point that Kespix put two and two together.  "So, those cat transformations are your element?"

Kixytt smiled a cheeky grin and answered, "Yep.  What would yours be?"

To this Kespix grinned as well and said, "Come over here, and I will show you."  He barely waited for a response.  With hand outstretched he rushed for Kixytt.

Kixytt ducked the hand, transforming into another member of her cat family repertoire as she escaped into the center of the dark street.  Kespix followed her trail with his eyes, stopping where she had once stood.  What he looked on now was a yellow-colored cat with black spots all along her back.  Kespix had heard rumors of such a creature being seen as a gladiator's opponent in the Coliseum, although he had not been so fortunate as to fight one:  a cheetah.  They were notoriously fast and hard to pin down for capture; they must have been even harder to kill.  "This fight just became a whole lot more interesting," he mused to himself.

For the fight ahead, Kespix decided to fully prepare himself.  His empty hand was thrust out next to him, a metal object forming at his fingers:  his helm.  He immediately donned it and faced Kixytt's new form with renewed resolve.

Through the eyeholes Kespix could almost swear that the cheetah was smiling at him.  Just because she had the advantage of speed did not mean that she had the right to be cocky.  Even so, he couldn't let his guard down for even a second.

The Battler and the Tamer stood off from each other at about seven paces, slowly circling each other, gauging the other's strength.  Well, just Kespix was that serious.  Both of them had their own unique tricks up their sleeves, but this first round was matched in Kespix's favor.  At least, that's what he hoped; his strength in close range was what he was betting on.

Kixytt still wore her smile as she circled around Kespix, humoring him in what must have been one of his gladiator games.  After nearly a full circle, however, she got a little bored.  With her cheetah speed she rushed straight for Kespix.

The attack came too suddenly for Kespix to think up a plan for attack; he had been shaken too abruptly from his battle calculations.  All he could do was hold up his scissor to intercept the sets of claws.  Even the defense proved an offensive maneuver.  The bone was no match for the metal, and two of the claw points crumbled.  The pain threw off her focus:  an opening for Kespix.  He grabbed her neck and spun around her, shoving her to continue her momentum.  "Not as ferocious as the real things, are you?" he smirked as Kixytt skidded on the ground.

The Playful Tamer transformed to her human self as she stood up, her back to the Battler and her hand on her chest.  "I try not to be…" Kixytt said as she caught her breath, turning towards her aggressor.  Her hand came away from her chest, and her coil of whip fell until it just barely touched the ground.  This tip was brought up and snagged Kespix's boot.  With teeth exposed in a grin she added, "… but I can when I want to be.  You broke my nail."  A tug of the line upended the veteran.

"How could I have fallen for that?" Kespix groaned.  He should have been aware of where he threw both Kixytt and her whip.  Many times had he seen gladiators in the ring make underdog comebacks in the same way.  And hadn't he seen this trap (the ankle snare) already?  The Spartan/Ninja exhibition flashed through his mind; his next move was influenced by these memories.  Like before, he took hold of Kixytt's whip and attempted to reel her in again while still on the ground.

Again Kixytt knew she was no match against Kespix's strength, but there was one difference between her situation and the Ninja's.  She held up her non-dominant hand and snapped her fingers.  Immediately, the whip vanished in a dark shroud.  With the tension no longer opposing her pull, Kixytt staggered back a few steps to regain her balance.

Kespix had only used his arm in his pull instead of putting his back into it, resulting in less recoil.  By the time Kixytt had regained her footing, so had he.

Both fighters now had a decent understanding of how the other worked.  The next round would prove explosive, despite the rain not having let up.  The music played on Kespix's chainmail seemed too spritely for the standoff in the alley, though.

He decided to remedy that with the sound of his opponent's screams.  His legs tensed and pushed him forward into a charge.  His scissor was held beside him in a position to deliver a devastating punch.

Just because she was less experienced in fighting than Kespix didn't mean that she was going to just stand there and take a punch like the one swiftly approaching.  Her legs tightened as well, but hers when released sent her high into the air over Kespix's head.

The Bitter Battler slowed to a stop with his target no longer in front of him.  He looked up, but the limited vision his helm provided as well as the night sky hid her from view.

That was, of course, until she transformed again.  The coloring on this feline was lighter, but she was also of a larger build than any of her others.  Kespix immediately recognized the species:  a lioness.  A cheetah might have been a more prestigious opponent, but the lioness and its male counterpart were stronger combatants.  They were the real competition for gladiators (besides other gladiators) in the Coliseum.

This fight was really staring to become a stroll down Memory Lane, a hike that he would need his "walking stick" and "satchel" for.  Holding up his armored arm he dispelled his scissor in much the same way Kixytt had to her weapon.  Kespix smirked under his helm at the confusion that came upon Kixytt's lion face.  Once bare, he snapped his fingers of this hand.  From a portal of darkness that appeared at his side arose a skeletal figure, instantly recognized as one of Kespix's Gladiator Nobodies.  The trident and net he carried further identified him as Neptune.

Kixytt's confusion became an angry leer; Kespix's face remained unchanged.  "Do not worry," he told her.  "I assure you, this is still a one-on-one fight."  To prove this, he turned to Neptune and took up the weapons he presented.  Once disarmed, Neptune disappeared again.

Holding these weapons again (despite them no longer being officially his) provided further memories of the past:  victories won by the triple points of his trident, the exasperation experienced by his opponents as they struggled to tear his net off their heads, the cheers of the crowd as blood flowed like a fountain… all of these memories and more…

…nearly distracted him from the present fight.  In his reminiscent stupor Kixytt had made a dash at Kespix with claws thrust to tear at Kespix's exposed chest.  Only when the lioness roared did the Brawler react.  He brought up his chainmail net and intercepted both clawed paws.  With the dexterity of a matador (a Spanish gladiator, after all) he sidestepped the strike as Kixytt's speed reduced.

Unfortunately, this kitty proved cleverer than her instinct-driven counterparts.  While she flew next to Kespix in her failed lunge, her hind leg was thrust out to the side and into his chest!  Her claws drew a red row across him, causing him to release the net with a slight cry of pain; he hadn't expected an attack like that.

Still, he had endured worse.  The other scars on his chest and around his neck were proof of that.  He turned to where Kixytt landed, the smoothness of which had been impeded by the net still on her front feet.  Even now she was struggling to take it off.  Either that or she enjoyed the jingle it made as she shook it.  She was facing away from him, so he couldn't tell.  Since taking advantage of distraction wasn't beneath her, Kespix decided to make use of her own.  He took his trident in both hands and thrust it under her abdomen.  He made sure not to hit her legs.  The reason for this slight bit of compassion was because of what he did next.  With a combination of speed and power he raised the trident's head and forcibly brought Kixytt's lower half into the air.  A spatula couldn't have done any better of a job flipping her onto her back.

Kespix reached down at her prone (and somewhat winded) form and grabbed the net.  To his surprise it came off rather easily; she had been enjoying herself.  Now that wasn't the case, with her look of fear and all.  With his other hand still grasping the trident, he thrust it into the ground at a shallow angle to the surface.  The trident's shaft was a hair's width away from her neck, and two points from the head pierced the ground on either side of her wrist.  "Consider yourself pinned," said the Battler.  "This fight is mine."

Kixytt transformed back into her human self and slid her narrower wrist out of the trident's grasp.  With both hands free she unplanted the weapon and handed it to Kespix.  "I honestly thought that you were going to kill me for a second," she said with a chuckle.

Upon taking the weapon and taking off his helm Kespix replied, "I do not kill women that I do not have a grudge against.  I bear you no ill will, child."

"Well, that's good to hear," laughed the Tamer.

"I must be going back now," Kespix said.  "I have found what I was looking for, even if it was in a questionable place."

"Aw, you're leaving so soon?" Kixytt whined.  "Will I be able to find you again?"

Kespix turned back once before replying, "I will always be around these streets, looking for a fight.  Of that you can be certain. For now, I bid you goodnight."  He dispelled his weaponry, turned back down the street, and made his way back towards Memory's Skyscraper.

Even in this day and age, it seemed that he could relive the glory days of being a gladiator.  His heated blood from that fight had thawed his cold, brooding feelings.  Now if only there was a way for this reminisce to last, a way to find more worthy opponents…  But that would be pushing his luck.

Soon he found himself at the top of the Skyscraper's stairs and walking through the doors.  Machelix had arrived back since his departure, evidenced by the Mage himself sitting at the glowing box known as a "computer".  Once the door closed behind Kespix, Machelix turned to him and asked, "Where were you?"  His tone indicated curiosity, not anger.

"I was just out for a walk."  It was a simple truth.

Machelix raised an eyebrow and pointed to the fresh marks on Kespix's chest.  "You got those from a walk?"

The Battler looked down to them and to his report added, "I got into a fight."

With a smirk Machelix continued his questioning.  "With who?"

"A cat-girl by the name of Kixytt."

"Kixytt?  That sounds almost familiar…"  Machelix stroked his chin before shaking his thoughts from his head.  "I'll look into that later.  For now I have one last question for you.  Have you ever heard of the Rogues of Axiom?"